


waiting for the end of the world

by mikapim



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Actual Empath Will, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Ex Sex, Former Will/Hannibal, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Porn with a hint of Plot, Supervillain Hannibal and Retired Superhero Will, they're not together but they're still in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikapim/pseuds/mikapim
Summary: Will Graham wakes up to find Hannibal Lecter- his ex boyfriend and the most infamous supervillain in the country- standing at the end of his bed.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 22
Kudos: 252





	waiting for the end of the world

Will knows something is wrong before he even fully wakes up. He’s still on the narrow edge of sleep when the sensation of being watched starts picking at his unconsciousness. He keeps his breathing steady and opens up his mind, letting loose the invisible tendrils of his mind that react to other people’s emotions like a live wire, but he comes up cold. That’s a bad sign. 

There’s a handgun in the nightstand, and a shotgun in the closet. Depending on what the person in his room wants, he isn’t sure if he can get to either before being overtaken. A common burglar he can handle. But even a low-grade supervillain looking to cause some trouble fucking with a retired hero? That could be more complicated, if they have a particularly tricky power. Will can’t even count on using his own power to manipulate it to his advantage anymore- within the past year or so empath and telepath resistant technology has become strong enough to actually start being effective. 

Will is still weighing his options, when-

“Hello, Will.” A low voice says from the end of his bed, and any fear Will was feeling quickly turns to pure, exhausted annoyance. 

He opens his eyes, and at the end of his bed stands Hannibal Lecter- most prolific supervillain in the country, and also Will’s ex boyfriend. 

“I should shoot you for this,” Will says, though they both know he’ll be doing no such thing- that if Will had the capacity to kill Hannibal, he would have done so by now. “Creepy bastard. I couldn’t feel you.” Will pushes himself to sit up. Hannibal is dressed casually, for him- a dark sweater over a white dress shirt, his hair falling over his forehead. He looks good, which is irritating at best. “Tell me you didn’t get some empath resistant implant put in.”

“Perhaps you’re simply out of practice,” Hannibal says, primly- but Will has already caught it, a barely perceptible, silver-grey shine just below and behind Hannibal’s left ear.

Will gets out of bed, the single top sheet he was sleeping under falling from him. He’s only in his boxers and an old tee shirt stained at the underarms but, well, it’s nothing Hannibal hasn’t seen before. “Is that permanent?” He asks, resisting the urge to yank it out of Hannibal’s neck with his nails and teeth. It’s not that he _wants_ to feel what Hannibal’s feeling- because he doesn’t- or that he feels unable to fight Hannibal without his powers- he wouldn’t be able to really hurt him even with them. It’s more the entire idea of Hannibal, always so independent and careful about what goes into his body, having something surgically implanted solely so Will wouldn’t know how he was feeling- that’s what Will hates. And the other option, that Hannibal might have had it done because of some _other_ empath, certainly doesn’t make Will feel any better.

“The implant itself is, yes. I can, however, activate and deactivate it when I please. That feature was very important to me.”

Will still frowns at the thing. It’s seemingly the only thing that has changed about Hannibal since he last saw him, just over a year prior when his entire world shattered and he told Hannibal he never wanted to see him again- which, honestly, that part of it annoys Will too. Despite himself, despite what he’s chosen, he feels gutted whenever he thinks about Hannibal doing things without him. The only small comfort is the fact that Hannibal absolutely feels the same way, if not more so. Even if Will can’t feel it right now, he knows it’s true. 

Will sighs. He’s kind of hoping he’ll wake up, but none of his many dreams and nightmares about Hannibal contain this level of realistic awkwardness. There’s usually much more blood. “What are you doing here, Hannibal?”

“I was anticipating a stronger reaction,” Hannibal says, which isn’t an answer, but it does satisfy Will a little. It’s a pleasure to disappoint Hannibal by the blandness of his disdain. 

“You’re blocking my power. You’d incapacitate me before I could get to a weapon. I assume you’ve already jammed my phone. You probably have cronies waiting downstairs. I’m retired, and I’m not interested in ending our armistice.” 

“I never considered our parting an armistice,” Hannibal says, which Will knows is true. Hannibal still believes their break-up to be an unfortunate, _temporary_ thing, which honestly only encourages Will to keep believing it is absolutely permanent. There is a comfort in being at odds with Hannibal in all things, and Hannibal makes it easy by the merit of simply being himself. 

“I’m not going to try anything,” Will says, walking past Hannibal to the bathroom, just a few steps away in the small apartment. “I’m done fighting losing battles.”

“Are you? The grapevine has been ripe with news of your return to the Bureau.”

“Well the grapevine is full of shit.” Will turns on the sink to push his face under the faucet. Hannibal has followed him, is just a few steps away. Close enough that it’s easy to remember that last time Hannibal was in his bathroom- getting ready together, all quiet pleasure and wary domesticity. Moments before it all went to shit. Will lets the water beat against his face, and then pulls away to shake his head like a dog. “Jack wants me to consult. On the hard cases.” _On one hard case in particular_ , Will doesn’t say. 

“I know,” Hannibal says, which Will isn’t exactly surprised by, He hasn’t seen an ounce of evidence that Hannibal has been keeping an eye on him since they parted, but he isn’t so naive to think that Hannibal would ever really let him go. “And you’ve never been good at saying no to Jack.”

It’s true- and Will hadn’t said ‘no’ exactly, yesterday when he was confronted by Jack about lending his brain to the Bureau one more time. But he also hadn’t said yes, which he counts as a win. 

“I haven’t committed to anything.” Will turns to lean back against the bathroom counter, just barely catching Hannibal checking out his mostly bare legs. It sends something hot and aching up Will’s spine, which he tries valiantly to ignore. He will _not_ fuck his ex boyfriend, most feared person on the continent. He will not reward this sort of stalker behavior, as much as part of him wants to. “And it’s nothing to do with you.”

“No, not me.” Hannibal says, and then, cutting to the chase- “This new boy, the Dragon- he is not strategic, or particularly clever. His crimes are very much those of passion- your brilliant mind would be especially useful in catching him. Truly, I don’t know how the Bureau will manage without you.”

Will frowns. That's pretty close to exactly what Jack had said, which is why Will had tentatively agreed to keep an open mind about consulting. The Dragon, as the press was calling him, has quickly raised in notoriety the past few months, and it would be a nightmare for the Bureau’s optics if they failed to catch him so quickly after they failed to catch Hannibal. Will was initially surprised that Jack had called him, after what had happened, but no one at the Bureau- even Jack and Beverly, who knew the truth- seemed to hold it against Will. Jack’s opinion seems to be that Will is their best bet- and it’s not like what happened with Hannibal would ever happen again. To that point Will had to agree. There would never be another Hannibal. 

“You _want_ me to go back to the Bureau?” Will asks, incredulous, angry. “I left so I didn’t-” He can’t bring himself to finish saying it aloud though they both know what he means- _I left so I didn’t have to turn you in._

“I do not wish you to return to the Bureau, if it’s not what you desire. I would, however, like to see the Dragon apprehended.”

That gets Will’s attention, cuts through the anger. He takes a good look at Hannibal, wishing desperately he didn’t have that thing in his neck so Will could get into his head. Hannibal is not a man to feel threatened by other supervillains- he _encourages_ them, loves inviting chaos and dangerous freedom into the world. It’s what he’d tried to do with Will, after all.

“Even if I could find him, I don’t know what you expect me to do beyond that, without the Bureau’s resources.” Will can use his empathy to find pretty much anyone, but apprehending them is a different story- especially with how powerful the Dragon apparently is. Powerful enough to cause concern in Hannibal, of all people. 

“I can help you. My resources rival the Bureau’s.” Hannibal smirks, a little. “And I require far less paperwork.” 

“What’s the catch?” Will asks, because there always is one.

“I can help _you_ find him. No Jack. None of you friends at the Bureau. We’ll manage him, just the two of us.”

“Starting to sound like a vigilante there. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch the wrong idea.”

Hannibal tenses. He flexes his fingers and leans back against the wall, but the damage has been done- Will’s pleased with the knowledge that he’s gotten under Hannibal’s skin. “Not a vigilante,” Hannibal says, all fake casual. “I’m protecting my best interests.”

“What are your interests, then?”

“My position as the most feared person on the continent. And you.”

Irritation flares up in Will’s gut. “You’re _worried_ about me? I don’t need your help, Hannibal. Fuck, you’re an asshole.” The idea that Hannibal is offering _protection,_ like Will needs him for anything-

“Will,” Hannibal’s tone is sharp, and Will meets his eyes. Hannibal’s hand is at his own neck, pressed against the implant. “Feel me.” 

Even though he’d been annoyed at the implant, Will still has to brace himself a little to open himself up to Hannibal’s emotions. He had spent so much time feeling what Hannibal felt- Hannibal was the first person in Will’s life who encouraged Will to use his power on him, who _liked_ it- and it had become such a comfort. Hannibal’s intense and understated wealth of feeling had become a safehouse for Will to hide in, at least until the person Will had wanted to hide from was Hannibal himself. 

Will closes his eyes, not able to handle the intensity of Hannibal’s expression along with the rest of it, and opens up his mind. He first has to wade through the pleasure and love and arousal and curiosity that lights up Hannibal’s synapses whenever he sees Will, a heady concoction that threatens to break Will’s unsteady self-control. That Hannibal feels for Will just as fervently as he had when they were together, that he hasn’t lost any amount of affection for Will in the year since their parting- it’s not something that’s easy for Will to put aside. But he is able, after a moment, when he detects something he’s not entirely sure he’s ever felt from Hannibal before. Something that sparks anxiety and makes his hands start to sweat, makes him want to run and keep running. Fear. Hannibal is afraid. 

Will opens his eyes, takes in Hannibal’s mostly impassive expression. “This is bad.”

“Yes,” Hannibal agrees. “Very bad.”

“What did you see? What do you know?” Will tries to picture what would scare Hannibal, pardoning the end of the world. Even then, he can’t really imagine it. 

“I know that when things start getting unpleasant, I want you by my side,” Hannibal says. Will can’t get anymore than just that- Hannibal saw something that scared him, and he came to Will. “And not just to protect you, my dear. Though I hope you know I always will.” 

“Fuck off,” Will says, and the kisses Hannibal on the mouth. 

Hannibal is clearly, obviously surprised, but he recovers well, taking Will’s face in his hands and kissing back hard. Kissing Hannibal is a relief, a release of tension and held back desire. (Will hasn’t been with anyone since they broke up, can barely imagine what that would look like, moving on from Hannibal.) And that’s what Will will blame for his giving in- that he has been so alone the past year, forcing himself to be apart from not only the only person he thinks really understands him, but the only person who has ever kissed him like he is something precious. 

With Hannibal’s heavy hands on his face and his feelings- lust and delight and smug satisfaction and the odd, twisted feeling of his love- sloping into Will’s brain, Will is made even more heated than he would be by the purely physical devotion of Hannibal’s affection. 

Will’s apartment is despondently bare-walled, but it’s useful now, as a place for Hannibal to push him up against. It’s overwhelming but it also feels right, like coming home, and Will squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of his own conflicted feelings at war with Hannibal’s. 

“Will?” Hannibal asks, careful. He still has one hand sweetly cupping Will’s cheek, the over warm at his hip. “Are you alright?”

Will can tell Hannibal is caught off guard, and his enthusiasm at having Will kiss him is tempered by the fact that he doesn’t want to push his luck and fuck up whatever uneasy peace they have between them. At least, not yet. Not until he has whatever he came here for which, in the moment, Will finds himself less concerned about. He doesn’t want to deny himself anymore, doesn’t want to think about the guilt and the pressure. He just wants Hannibal.

Will doesn’t answer right away, forcing himself to block out all the feelings and arousal and look at Hannibal’s face. This is the man who fucked him over, who lied, who hurts people, who hurt _him_ , who is an actual fucking supervillain. He should not be doing this. He should not be _wanting_ to do this. 

“Bed,” Will says, feeling shaky and wanting to not be stood in the cramped bathroom any longer. “Yes, I’m fine, let’s go to bed.”

They make it most of the way there before Will’s being pressed against a wall again, just to the side of the nightstand, being kissed within an inch of his life. He pulls away, gasping a little, lips already pleasantly sore. Hannibal looks wild- eyes so dark and hair mused and sweater rumpled from where Will has been clutching at his shoulders. 

Hannibal ducks his head to start kissing Will’s neck, tugs down his shirt so he can get at his bare chest. Will huffs out a laugh, pushing Hannibal hard enough that he stumbles back and Will can pull his own tee shirt over his head and drop it to the floor. He grabs a fistful of Hannibal’s sweater and pulls him back in, takes his mouth and luxuriates in the feeling of Hannibal’s hands running over his now naked chest and back. 

Will isn’t sure if it’s his own desperate loneliness, or Hannibal’s sickly combination of pleasure and poorly covered up fear, but he feels frantic and frenzied, like they don’t have any time. They’re just kissing and Will already feels his orgasm like a runaway train. He reaches to grope Hannibal’s cock through his slacks and finds one of Hannibal’s hands already there, undoing the button and zipper. 

Will gets his hand around Hannibal's cock, already so hard for him and that- along with the rush of _love-arousal-relief_ being beaten into his mind, and the dark severity of Hannibal's expression, and the hot wet heat of his mouth- it's too much for Will to stand. He lets go of Hannibal and turns himself around, groaning when Hannibal follows suit and presses him into the wall again, this time bearing against his back. 

The wall is cool against his front, the side of his heated face- it’s a tornado of sensation, the cold wall at war with the heat of Hannibal pressing up against him. He feels Hannibal’s cock hard against his ass, the thin fabric of his boxers not doing much, and _fuck_ , a year is a long time. He wants to be fucked, but it’s not like he was _planning_ this- he reconsiders, not wanting to waste any time, and instead leans over slightly to grab a bottle of lotion from atop his nightstand.

“Will-” Hannibal starts, but Will cuts him off.

“Hold on,” Will says, quickly kicking off his boxers and pumping enough lotion into his hands to then spread liberally over the inside of his own thighs. He hears Hannibal's intake of breath behind him. Once he deems his thighs slick enough he presses himself forward against the wall, reaching a still lotion-covered hand back to grab Hannibal by the hip and pull him forward. “Against me, come on. I want to feel it.”

Hannibal gets the message, pushing Will so he's up on his toes, and starts to fuck between Will’s thighs, gripping his hips tight to hold him in place. Hannibal’s hard cock between his thighs, bumping up against his balls, is unerringly hot, but there is nothing better to Will than the feeling of Hannibal is his mind- their twin arousals bounding off of each other and elevating everything Will feels to the nth power. It’s unlike anything else, to know exactly how much Hannibal wants him. He’d wondered if it might seem a bit undignified to Hannibal, fucking like this with lotion against a wall, but Hannibal is all hard arousal and cool relief and Will loves it- he’s honestly glad they didn’t make it to the bed. Their sex was always crushingly intimate, since the beginning, and Will’s not sure how much of that he could handle. In a bed, there would have been too much time for reconsideration, for anxiety. Too much time to think about what Hannibal’s done and what he’ll do in the future. Too much time to think about how Will is an idiot for allowing this, for allowing himself to have this when-

Suddenly Hannibal wraps a hand around Will’s cock, and Will moans loud enough he becomes worried about waking the neighbors. 

“Don’t forget I can tell what you’re thinking too, Will,” Hannibal says low in his ear, which is true. Hannibal can't literally get inside Will’s head as Will can his, but he did always seem unerringly tuned in to Will’s thoughts- something that was as annoying as it often was lovely when they were together. “Everything’s alright. Let me make you feel good.”

Will isn’t sure if the strong mental wave of peace Hannibal sends off is intentional, but it works- Will is able to temporarily, for the moment, let go of the guilt and enjoy what he’s missed, what he’s denied himself.

They’re quiet except for heavy breathing and quiet moans as Hannibal fucks his thighs- Hannibal is still holding his tongue and Will is hesitant to let himself say anything for risk it’ll be held against him later. Even when Hannibal comes- wet slick across Will’s ass, down the inside of his thighs- he just lets out a loud sigh, presses a kiss to the curve of Will’s ear, runs his free hand across Will’s stomach and up to the base of his throat, squeezing just enough to hint at something more. 

Will has to grit his teeth from the intensity of Hannibal’s orgasm, the shared euphoria making him feel overstimulated even as he, still hard, thrusts into Hannibal's hand, only to groan when Hannibal pulls away. Will starts to turn, wanting to see him, and Hannibal, never one to waste time, is on his knees before Will is even fully turned around. Will feels teeth against his hip bones, then catching against his stomach. He looks down and feels a thrill from it, from seeing Hannibal on his knees, which is only elevated from the satisfaction he’s getting from Hannibal as he starts to suck Will’s cock.

As good as it is to feel how much Hannibal wants him, wants to fuck him and revel in his body, it is even better to know how much Hannibal wants to _please_ him. To know the ferocity of Hannibal’s devotion, knowing how purely _happy_ he is just to be sucking Will’s cock- it’s almost too much. Will isn’t sure he has ever felt love from another person like it feels from Hannibal. It’s now, about to come down Hannibal’s throat and feeling his love beat against him like a torrential rainfall, that Will doesn’t know why they broke up at all. For a moment, the murder and the mayhem doesn't seem to matter that much, in comparison to all of this.

Will doesn’t quite black out, but he floats through his orgasm with mindlessness and high, breathy moans, and then he is opening his eyes to find himself on the ground sitting across Hannibal, heart still pounding and vision hazy. 

Hannibal, for what it’s worth, looks and feels smug enough that Will immediately becomes annoyed and doesn’t even hesitate to reach out and press his finger against the implant on Hannibal’s neck. Despite knowing what he’s done it’s a little jarring to feel it work, suddenly pulled into his own mind without the intrusion of Hannibal’s thoughts. If Hannibal looks a little upset, well, he’s the one who had it put in. 

“It’s like being waterboarded sometimes,” Will says, confessionally, tongue loose from orgasm. “I can’t breathe for what you feel for me.”

“I can relate to that sentiment.” Hannibal stands, tucks himself into his pants and zips them up, collected despite his general disarray. He holds out a hand to help Will out, which Will takes, and then Will gathers up his abandoned sleep clothes to go clean up and get redressed in the bathroom. 

When he comes back out, Hannibal is standing by the door. Will raises his eyebrows.

“I don’t wish to overstay my welcome,” Hannibal says, which Will thinks is rich coming from a person who broke into his apartment while he slept. “And I am not interested in forcing you to do anything. If you are interested in my proposal, you know where to find me.” With that, Hannibal turns and reaches for the door handle.

“Hannibal,” Will says, not sure if he’s resisting or giving in. He knows the decision was made as soon as he felt the fear boiling in Hannibal’s mind. “Wait.”

Hannibal turns back, expression schooled. 

“I have… conditions,” Will says. "If we're going to do this."

“I assumed you would.”

“You need to cut all the supervillain shit out while we hunt down the Dragon. I won’t be a part of it, and besides that it’ll only slow us down. If you have stuff running in the background, that’s fine, but we can’t take a detour because you have the impulse to psychologically torture some random convenience store worker.”

“Of course,” Hannibal says, placating- Will doesn’t believe it’ll last, exactly, but it seems a good sign that he’s willing to try. Will has to steel himself for what he says next, knowing he’s gonna have to put on to make it sound like he really means it, given that it hurts to even say.

“Also, this, what happened tonight? It’s not happening again. Sorry. We’re still broken up. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.” 

“Always denying yourself pleasure, Will, and for what?” Hannibal says in response, though his tone is mild. He isn’t upset by the declaration, Will thinks probably because getting to fuck Will even once was more than he’d expected. Or maybe because he thinks Will isn’t going to be able to resist it, if they’re spending time together. That idea makes Will even more dedicated to not sleeping with Hannibal again- he is very good at denying himself, especially out of spite. 

_For what?_ Will thinks, calling on how it had felt when he’d first uncovered the truth about Hannibal. The grief and humiliation at learning that the man he’d been working with- his boyfriend, the man he loved- was the villain he’d been trying to defeat. When he realized all the pain he’d been absorbing from victims’ families and loved ones had been because of Hannibal. No, this can’t happen again. He will work with Hannibal to catch the Dragon, and that’ll be it. Will won’t let himself be taken for a fool again.

**Author's Note:**

> idrk what this is but i hope someone likes it! 
> 
> this is a stand alone for now but i have a vague idea of a plot so maybe there'll be more one day, not anytime soon though.
> 
> title from elvis costello song of the same name.


End file.
